


Today in Yoshiwara, it rains again

by velvetcat09



Category: Gintama
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Courtesan AU, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Prostitution, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:35:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26659804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetcat09/pseuds/velvetcat09
Summary: In truth, I only wanted to bloom for one person ever—but fate stole my freedom, and the wheels merely kept turning.----------a small courtesan au with hijikata as a kagema
Relationships: Hijikata Toshirou/Sakata Gintoki
Comments: 11
Kudos: 95





	Today in Yoshiwara, it rains again

**Author's Note:**

> kagema: male prostitutes  
> ronin: samurai without master
> 
> \----
> 
> this fic is inspired by the song Yoshiwara Lament by Asa  
> i love the song so much and its bittersweet tone i really adore  
> please give it a listen if you can

In a way, it had felt more like a dream.

It was raining when the Jouishishi visited the Yoshiwara district for a celebration party. He said Jouishishi, when it really was just Sakamoto dragging Gintoki and Takasugi to rent some women with Katsura tagging along. The four of them, privileged were they as the Four Heavenly Kings that they could venture into the red-light district without caring of the war riding behind their backs. No. Perhaps because they _cared_ , that Sakamoto (with approval of Katsura) dragged the two stubborn fighting-obsessed generals to release their pent up energy with pleasure instead.

Gintoki couldn’t care less about where he channeled his energy or whatever it was. He was as much as the Yoshiwara gate sign itself when he walked on the district, all silver hair and fair complexion, his reputation preceded him. The color might had caught people’s attention, but it was pretty much a turn off when they saw how curly his hair was. That only add to the list of why he couldn’t care less about going to the pleasure district.

But it was like a dream, when Gintoki felt like someone truly looking at him from the crowd of pleasure women. When his feet planted themselves on the ground and Katsura’s call of his name became a background noise, it felt like déjà vu.

He felt like he just saw a familiar shade of blue.

That thought lingered longer than he had expected. Even Sakamoto’s boisterous laughter couldn’t dampen it, if anything it pushed Gintoki into spending his entire time sitting by the balcony in the banquet room they rented, eyes distant into that night. Takasugi took notice of this, so did Katsura, Sakamoto as well. But neither of them said a thing because Gintoki looked more lost than he usually did, another kind of lost that was better left alone to be sorted out.

And yet, good friends that they were, they couldn’t just idly ignore it.

“Gintoki, take a bit of fresh air out there.”

“I’m already having more fresh air here than you guys, Zura.” Gintoki ignored the palm resting on his shoulder.

“Leave him, Zura. He didn’t rent anyone in the first place, it’s his fault if he’s all alone tonight.”

“As if any women spending with you ever been satisfied, chibi!”

“You—”

Katsura was just about to interfere when Gintoki stood up and headed for the door. He didn’t rent anyone, so he really didn’t have much reason to be here any longer. His friends watched Gintoki’s back as the silver haired general left the place in the middle of rain.

He ended up on a bridge, soaked to the bone staring at the murky color of the river. His mind was fishing something long since passed, of a simpler time, of a half-forgotten promise. Somewhere before Shoyo-sensei, somewhere in-between his time as a demon of a child.

Gintoki had realized back in the room, that the shade of blue he thought he saw reminded him of the same shade he was acquainted all those years ago. He couldn’t remember how he survived, let alone of his parents; but Gintoki remembered the child who found him one fateful day. The boy with jet-black hair and rich blue eyes who shared his onigiri with him. Why, of all time, was he remembering such thing? Why was he reminded of the boy’s explanation? That he was out there in the field because the relatives of his household were visiting and that his brother had to send him out, despite the older’s reluctancy. The onigiri was his lunch and that boy shared it with Gintoki. Once into twice, into thrice, and then Gintoki found his first ever friend. He would never forget that shade of blue.

The rain suddenly stopped. He no longer felt its droplets hitting the top of his head, but his eyes still were watching them pour in front of him. That’s when Gintoki realized there’s an umbrella over him.

“Sir, won’t you frolic one night with me?”

His body felt like moving on its own when he turned around to face the stranger and their invitation. The first thing he saw was the color blue.

The stranger took a step back and Gintoki unconsciously followed, silently. The other would beckon to a direction and Gintoki would obediently trail after it. That was how he ended up in a pleasure house, inside the room that was probably the other’s. The absence of rain brought Gintoki back to his senses and he finally noticed that the stranger was a male prostitute, a kagema.

Gintoki sat in the middle of the dimly lit room, completely silent when he was carefully dried off by the kagema. He couldn’t fathom the reason behind his own body moving on its own accord like this, answering like that. Deep down, however, he knew that the reason was because he couldn’t stop thinking about that one single hue.

That was the only thing inside his mind.

The kagema gave him the services, knelt between Gintoki’s legs, and moaned prettily as he swallowed his erection. Gintoki didn’t have to do a single thing, the other expertly stretched himself open, all the while sucking the silver haired samurai. Gintoki let out a huff every now and then, though generally holding himself back from making a sound.

Gintoki finally took a small initiative of kissing the other’s neck as he sunk himself on Gintoki’s dick. When he shoved the hair hiding that pale and slender neck, that was when Gintoki became conscious of the other’s jet-black hair.

The Shiroyasha remembered his past.

Unforgettable shade. Black and blue, in contrast with white and red. Gintoki laid the guy down in between their hips meeting each other and Gintoki let himself a taste of that fair skin. There were hands suddenly over Gintoki’s back and from that moment on, they held onto each other. Both surrendering into the night, succumbing into this small Heaven in the middle of ravaged land.

For some reason Gintoki didn’t want to separate himself from whoever this is, and it felt like the other share the sentiment with the way that blue was peering into Gintoki’s own eyes.

A hand caressed the silver haired man’s cheek. “It’s Gintoki, isn’t it?”

His breath halted. A name came into mind immediately.

“How do you.. “

“You didn’t change at all. I’m glad I can see you again.” Where the other smiled, Gintoki frowned. The thumb caressed him gently.

Gintoki couldn’t shake that single name from his head.

“T—… Toushirou?”

“ _Found you_.” The corner of those blue eyes crinkled childishly and Gintoki recalled a memory of playing hide-and-seek.

What were the odds of reuniting with your long-lost childhood friend in a desolate town? What were the odds of finding said friend in the red-light district, a worker in the place, nonetheless? Gintoki didn’t know, he was a terrible gambler after all.

But saying that name out loud, having it be confirmed like this. More than ever Gintoki wanted to bury himself closer into the other. His voice was hoarse when he asked what happened to Toushirou, why he disappeared one day and Gintoki couldn’t find him ever since.

Toushirou’s voice was calm when he explained it to Gintoki.

“There was a fire in the village and a group of bandits took it as opportunity to rob the Hijikata house. My brother had his eyes cut by those bandits when he was protecting me. Seeing my brother soaked in blood, I went and gorged out those bandits’ eyes. When the rest of the family found us, they told me I couldn’t stay in the family anymore. Without my brother protecting me anymore, it became apparent their resentment towards me. I couldn’t meet you again because they sold me to Yoshiwara.”

Gintoki held Toushirou’s hand throughout his story. He gave it a squeeze when Toushirou finally ended it. Yoshiwara was an untouched territory for as long as Gintoki could remember, it became a ceasefire zone for both sides of the war. He had searched across the land, a journey that he eventually gave up after years of no trail of his dearest friend.

“Toushirou,”

Years of separation, yet their minds were still very much alike, the raven can still read him like an open book, it seemed.

“Unless you buy my freedom, I cannot leave this place, Gintoki.”

No matter how hard he looked, how much he desired to find him, separation was still their fates.

“Can I kiss you?”

This one was allowed, this small promise, exchanged when their lips met. It was more than enough to be Gintoki’s resolve to never give up from then on.

* * *

“Right, my work here is done then.”

“Gintoki, wait!” He spared Tsukuyo a side-glance. A single expression of ‘What else do you want?’ and nothing more.

“The Yoshiwara is greatly indebted to you as its savior.”

“If you’re just going to keep saying that then I’m leaving, I have more important things to do.”

“But the reason you freed Yoshiwara, freeing Hinowa and reuniting her with Seita; you have another reason, don’t you, Gintoki?”

At that he completely stopped in his track. The kids had returned earlier and it was just Gintoki accepting the last payment from his work in destroying what Housen had done by encasing Yoshiwara into eternal darkness. Gintoki was not oblivious to the story of the red-light district, he might be missing bits of details, but the situation underground was never a secret to him.

“Yoshiwara is a place for secret lovers, it is no stranger to the tale of two people promising each other to be together under the night. There are many tales of that kind here, but only few that became popular among the talks of pleasure workers here. One is of the other Tayuu of Yoshiwara whose beauty compared to Hinowa.”

“The other one is of a tale on the other side of Yoshiwara.”

Gintoki looked away.

“There is a teahouse on the other side of this town that specialized in a certain kind of service. There is a tale regarding of that place, the story could be traced back from the Joui war. A kagema who met a certain person and stopped taking any other customer ever since. A promising kagema on the rise, he was on the verge of becoming a high-ranking courtesan. However, one fated day he met someone and they both spent the night together. The person was a poor ronin, yet he asked the rising kagema if he could buy his freedom. It was impossible, of course.”

“But the kagema had fallen in love with the ronin. He began declining his customers and abandoning his trainings. Being poor and in the war, the ronin only ever visited him once in a while. The kagema only ever served the ronin from then on. His status began falling in the teahouse and soon he was left without his privileges of choosing his customers. He returned into a low-ranking prostitute who had to accept any customers without exception. The ronin didn’t know of the kagema sacrificed his status, lowering himself so that the ronin could one day purchase his freedom.”

“The war ended and Yoshiwara was plunged into the underground by Housen. But the tale said that the ronin is still keeping his promise in freeing the kagema.”

“That ronin with silver hair, that was you, wasn’t it? Gintoki.”

He closed his eyes.

“You got it wrong.” Tsukuyo frowned.

“The ronin _did_ know what the kagema was doing. He begged him to stop but the kagema wouldn’t listen. But the ronin was dirt poor he didn’t have a single yen with him, so no matter how low is the price of his freedom, the ronin would never be able to buy it.” Gintoki clutched the envelope in his kimono pocket.

“It’s been years now, the ronin has another job and has earned himself enough money.”

“Gintoki, He’s no longer in that teahouse.”

* * *

He ran as fast as his feet could carry him. Bumping over people, stumbling over the crowd, Gintoki ran towards that bridge.

His lungs were screaming when he arrived at the very place. The background had changed slightly, some shops weren’t there when he first came to this spot all those years ago. But the wooden bridge had remained the same, an object of the past that remained firm in its place. Decades worth of memories engraved on its structure.

Gintoki saw him.

Toushirou beckoned him with the same shade of blue and Gintoki immediately walked over to hold him. The sky was clear, devoid of a single trace of cloud. There were no signs of rain.


End file.
